“It was good,” he said, tipping back his own glass. “Did you know that Leo’s graduating early?”
I nodded. “I’m proud of him.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“No. I knew he wanted to keep it under wraps, and I wanted him to feel like he could trust me.”
Walker kissed my cheek. “You’re a good friend, Ozzie Cavanaugh. And an even better boyfriend.” He punctuated this with another deep drink.
“I will be, once the stress of this restaurant dies down.”
“It will. Y’all will get into a groove, and it’ll be great.”
We clinked right as Beckett, Holden, Ren, and Hikaru joined us. Holden accepted our offer of wine and downed half a glass before he sat down. His family-friendly gaming company had been taking off, and balancing things in his life had become more challenging in the last few months.
Despite my nerves today, I was learning some of those same valuable lessons about balance. In my case, Joel and I had to learn how to hire the right people and then let them do their jobs.
For instance, Tommy, now sober and officially reunited with his girlfriend—the EMT who’d tried to take care of him the night this place was trashed—was our new head bartender. It made no sense and perfect sense, and he continued to surprise us with his ingenuity and consistency. The guy had always loved coming to the Watering Hole, and now he could be there all the time without drinking himself into an early grave. Not only was it great for Tommy, it also meant Joel and I could spend more time building our businesses.
Speaking of which, Joel pointed out the window as my mom and dad were making their way across the street. I put down my glass and rushed to join them outside, Tristan right behind with his phone up to record the moment for our social media platforms.
“Son, this is so beautiful,” Mom said, marveling at the restaurant through the new front windows.
“Thank you, Mom. Joel and I created this place for you,” I said, handing her the end of a rope.
“What is this?” she asked, confused.
I pointed to the burlap-draped sign above the door. “I never did tell you what I called the restaurant. Go ahead, pull the covering off.”
She did, and Shanna was right. Mom cried big fat tears when the name was revealed:Kiyana’s.
She drew me into a fierce hug, and we were joined by my dad, who, even though he’d known about the name and told me I should make it a surprise, cried as hard as she did.
After a long embrace, she said, “Okay, take me inside and let me see if this food is worthy of my name.”
I chuckled, and all felt right with the world.
Dinner was as delicious as I could have dreamed. Major had joined us right after Mom and Dad arrived, but Sawyer and Hendrix were twenty minutes late. Hendrix was looking healthier, but now it was Sawyer who looked unhappy and short on sleep.
Fuck, what a mess.
Regardless, we had a great time, and my mom went into the kitchen to give Shanna a huge hug. “I haven’t had food this good since I was at my mother’s house. Thank you. Thank you,” she said, following up with another hug.
Some people thought it was weird, putting a Jamaican restaurant in the middle of downtown Seguin, but I loved the reasoning Mr. Paige had left in his notebook:If you start small, start with what’s comfortable, then you can grow a little. But if you start with something entirely new, you can shift perspectives a lot faster.
I knew the second people tried my family’s recipes, they’d be back.
For now, I was grateful for the chance to give our wait and kitchen staff a good test run, since we were already booked with reservations for the next two weeks.
At the end of the night, Walker and I ended up at my place with a stolen bottle of wine and soft music on the Bluetooth.
“So,” Walk said, drowsy and a little drunk. “A successful night.”
“Very,” I replied, my words gone sideways as I took the bottle from him for a swig. “But I’ve got one more item on my agenda before I can call it perfect.”
“Yeah?”
I dug in my back pocket, missing it a few times before coming up with my wallet. Flipping it open, I pulled out the final piece of the puzzle.
